


Poolside

by kinkstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Lifeguards, Fluff, Jock Dean, Lifeguard Dean, M/M, Nerd Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkstiel/pseuds/kinkstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester—his name is a sigh that melts on your tongue as you breathe it out. Each letter a pleasure to wrap your lips around. The kind of name you look for excuses to say out loud just to hear the way it lingers in the air, walls whispering Dean! Dean! Dean! long after you’ve stopped speaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poolside

_Dean Winchester_ —his name is a sigh that melts on your tongue as you breathe it out. Each letter a pleasure to wrap your lips around. The kind of name you look for excuses to say out loud just to hear the way it lingers in the air, walls whispering _Dean! Dean! Dean!_ long after you’ve stopped speaking. 

“Cas? You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Anna accused, snapping her fingers to pull him back to reality. 

“What?” He frowned trying to remember what they’d been talking about. 

She huffed. “You weren’t, were you?” 

Castiel blushed, smiling apologetically at his sister who just rolled her eyes and reached across the bed to grab his laptop—open to Dean Winchester’s facebook. “Hey—” 

“You’re hopeless.” 

He glared and snatched the computer back, facing turning eight shades of red in the process. “I was just reading an article he posted—” 

“About how big his biceps have gotten?” She teased. If it were physically possible to get any redder, that would have done it. Sure, Dean may have been tagged in a few new pictures but there was definitely an article somewhere on that page, too. 

He opened his mouth to defend himself but gave up before accidentally digging his grave any deeper. On the screen a picture of a wet Dean Winchester in a dark blue speedo smiled back at him, all those miles of smooth, tanned skin making him sigh internally. Anna was right, he _was_ hopeless. 

She shook her head. “Why don’t you just add him?” 

“He has no idea that I even exist. Adding him would be inappropriate.” 

“You went to high school together, it’s not that weird.” 

“We weren’t even in the same year! It is weird for a some random junior to add him a year after he graduates.” Castiel said, idly clicking through the rest of the album. 

“Half the school was friends with the guy. I doubt he remembers everyone, so what’s the big deal?” 

“I’m not adding him. Can we please stop talking about it?” 

“Instead you’re going to creep his profile eight times a day and save all the gratuitously nude pictures?” 

“I don’t save them,” Cas mumbled, anger deflating. He fiddled with the sheets, eyes tracing the pattern as he pointedly avoided looking at her. “I’m just curious about his athletic career, that’s all.” 

“You’re so obsessed.” She laughed. 

He glared again which only seemed to make her laugh harder, doubling over on the bed. “Anna!” 

Wiping a tear from her eye, she crawled over to where Castiel was leaning against the headboard. “Sorry, Cassie.” Anna squeezed his shoulder, “It’s just cute.” 

“I’m not obsessed,” he frowned, eyes still glued to the sheets. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed, voice suddenly quiet and serious. “It’s just, you’ve had a crush on the guy for so long. He doesn’t even live in the same state anymore.” There was no point in looking up, he could feel the concern on her face, hear the sympathy in her voice. “Don’t you get tired of pining after some dumb jock you’ve never even had a conversation with?” 

Of course he was tired of it, knew it was ridiculous to be infatuated with a guy he’d only ever known through hallway gossip and brief glimpses in the cafeteria. Castiel still remembered the first time they were ever in the same room together—Dean standing so close, the smell of leather and chlorine saturating the air between them. 

That was as close as they’d come to actually meeting but for some reason, even after Dean had graduated, Castiel couldn’t let go. It was hardly unusual, though. Practically their whole town was at least a little bit obsessed with the man. Captain of the swim team, valedictorian, handsome, smart, kind—everyone either loved him or wanted to be him. There was just something about those green eyes, crooked smile, broad shoulders, thick muscles— 

“You’re doing it again.” Anna ruffled his hair before gathering up her books and making for the door. “Don’t stare at him too long, kiddo. You still have homework to do.” 

The door closed softly, leaving him feeling strangely sad and alone. For a long time he just sat staring at the screen, not even really looking at it anymore. Eventually enough was enough and he shut the computer, picking up his math book instead. Unfortunately, Anna was right. Exams weren’t going to go away just because Dean Winchester looked good in a bathing suit. 

School dragged on slower and slower as the days went on. Summer was just around the corner and by the time exams were actually done, he needed the promise of a relaxing few months doing nothing at all to come true. 

Two days in, all those plans were thrown out the window when Charlie burst into his room without warning. “You’re never going to believe what I just found out!” She shouted, flopping on the bed dramatically. 

“What?” 

“I just overhead Jo Harvelle talking and—you’re going to flip,” she pulled at his desk chair until he turned around enough to face her. “Guess who got a job at the community pool?” 

“I don’t know, Dorothy?” 

“I wish!” She sighed dreamily. “But no, guess again.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know I hate this, just tell me.” 

At first it looked like she was going to make him keep guessing forever but then she bit her lip, squirming with excitement and blurted, “Dean!” 

“W-what?” He stuttered, sure that he’d misheard. 

“Dean! Dean Winchester. He’s going to be the new lifeguard or something.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

“No way! Look, I have my serious face on and everything.” 

“Holy shit.” It took him a full minute to process the information. “Holy _shit_.” He said again, suddenly nauseous. 

“Yup. Babechester himself is gonna be parading around town in virtually nothing all summer!” She practically sang, smiling impishly. 

It took a while to fully reboot his brain and regain enough function to speak. “W-when?” 

“Starts next week, I think.” 

This wasn’t supposed to happen! Dean _left_ , he was off at KU going to swim meets and frat parties and getting tagged in half naked pictures with inadequate privacy settings! That was the natural order, he was not supposed to come back and get a job ten minutes away! 

“You okay, Cas?” Charlie shook his leg, teasing grin still firmly in place. 

“I—I don’t know. What do I do?” He asked, still stunned. 

“Well that’s obvious, we go swimming!” 

“I can’t just show up there.” 

“Why not? It’s a _community_ pool. You’re part of the community, aren’t you?” 

“But—” 

She wandered over to his closet, waving off any further protests. “We need to figure out what you’re going to wear, though. How cute is your bathing suit? Ever consider something tight like a—” 

“Charlie!” He shouted, flushing at the realization that Dean would most definitely see him in a bathing suit. 

“What? You want him to notice all your assets, don’t you?” 

“He’s straight,” he blushed harder, desperately wanting to disappear. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“He’s never shown any interest in a guy before.” 

“I refuse to believe that a guy who spends like seventy percent of his time surrounded by other half naked guys in itty bitty bathing suits is completely heterosexual.” She tossed a few pairs of shorts at him, “Besides, where’s the harm in flaunting it Cas? If he doesn’t bite, you’ll just look good for some other poolside hottie.” 

“For the record, I hate this idea.” He grouched, reluctantly considering his bathing suit options. 

“Quit complaining. I’m trying to help you get some hot swimmer action.” 

“Even if he were into guys,” he had to scramble to catch all the shirts she was throwing in his direction, “I don’t think I’d be his type.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, I’m,” she stopped tossing clothes in the air long enough to narrow her eyes at him. He gestured awkwardly at his body. 

“Too dreamy?” 

He rolled his eyes. “He’s all muscle cars and leather jackets and sports and danger. That’s not me.” 

“You don’t know anything about the guy. Give him some credit,” after a moment she added, “and give yourself some, too.” 

Which was exactly how Castiel ended up letting himself be dragged to the pool a week later, blush almost permanently stained across his cheeks and chest. 

“You don’t have to talk to him,” Charlie whispered as they rounded the corner, shrieks and laughter more audible the closer they got to community center. Blood pounded in his ears, anxiety knotting in his stomach with every step they took. Why had he thought changing into his bathing suit would be a good idea? Now every flaw was glaring up from his naked torso, on display for every attractive lifeguard to see. 

The front gate seemed almost ominous as they approached and he stopped, shifting around nervously in the entrance. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I mean, I’m probably just going to read anyway so—” 

“Don’t be such a baby!” She grabbed his arm, essentially dragging them both onto the pool deck. “Look, he’s not even sitting in the big chair thing. Maybe he’s not even here.” Castiel squinted and, sure enough, no one was sitting on the lifeguard tower which meant no Dean anywhere in sight. All the tension dissolved out of his body, leaving him feeling strangely boneless. It was like all the pressure just instantly vanished and he felt almost elated at the freedom. 

They settled down in a sunny spot as far away from the little tower as possible and, consequently, from the wandering eyes of any lifeguards. It was a busy day, enough people splashing around that he was practically invisible. Castiel stretched out on his stomach, letting the sun fall across his bare skin as he thumbed open his book and let all his worry melt away. Beside him, Charlie’s nose was already buried in a worn copy of The Hobbit, both content to let themselves get lost in their own worlds. 

Only a half hour later, all hope of a peaceful afternoon was lost when a man crouched in front of him, his perfectly proportioned shadow blocking out the sun. “Cat’s Cradle?” The shadow drawled, “I’m more of a Slaughter House Five kinda guy, myself.” Castiel snapped up so fast it felt like his neck might break and oh _shit_ —green eyes were blinking down at him, plush pink lips quirked up in an easy smile. _Dean_. He practically swooned. “Vonnegut fan?” 

“Um,” he opened and closed his mouth dumbly, failing to force any other words out. It was impossible, not with that face so close he could actually see the constellation of freckles spattered across those cheeks, nose, shoulders, and god knows where else. Honest to god _freckles_ —how the hell was that fair? 

“Ah, sorry man! I totally interrupted you didn’t I?” He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Castiel swallowed, Dean was wearing the shortest and reddest pair of swim trunks he’d ever seen, thick muscles practically bulging out of them. “Couldn’t help myself when I saw the book.” 

“N-no, it’s fine. It’s totally fine, absolutely—uh—fine.” He cringed at the repetition, eyes darting away to stare holes in the ground as Dean laughed. “Uh, it’s a really great book.” He muttered to the grass. 

The lifeguard hummed agreement. “You read any others?” 

When he looked back up, the man was still smiling bright and gorgeous and right at Castiel.  
“Um, yeah. My favorite’s—uh—Breakfast of Champions.” 

“Definitely awesome.” Dean looked like he was about to say more but a loud sound at the other end of the pool caught his attention. “Hey man, sorry to cut this short but, uh,” he gestured at his uniform, “you know, danger never sleeps.” 

It took Castiel a while to process the joke, flushing when he noticed that he’d been staring. “Oh, of course.” 

“I’m Dean by the way.” 

“Um, Castiel.” 

“Castiel,” he said like he was testing the way the name felt in his mouth. “Yeah, cool.” There was another sound from behind them, “Alright well, that’s my queue to leave. Can’t wait to hear what you think of the book, Cas.” Dean smiled wolfishly before jogging down to deal with whatever was going on at the other end of the pool. 

As soon as Dean was far enough way he sighed, burying a big stupid grin in his towel. The man was even more perfect up close. Like absolutely flawlessly, disastrously perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you wonder if the whole universe conspired to create every pore, every muscle, every smile. The kind of perfect that almost makes you sick to look at. Freckles, he thought and laughed. Who would have thought Dean Winchester had freckles! 

“Oh my god,” Charlie whispered into his ear after Dean had left. “I told you the tighter bathing suit would get his attention.” She slapped his butt playfully but he was too happy to care. 

“H-he noticed my book, that’s all. Was just being friendly.” 

“Uh-huh. The first conversation you’ve ever had with the guy and he’s already calling you _Cas_?” 

“So what?” 

“So you’re totally welcome, you jerk!” She looked at him smugly. 

“Shut up, this is awful!” He pushed her away half-heartedly, laughing almost hysterically as all the adrenaline from before turned to giddiness. 

“Why? This is progress! You’re officially one step closer to getting in those tight little swim shorts.” 

“No, it’s terrible because now I know what it’s like to be smiled at by _god_ himself. How do I just go back to living my normal, human life now?” 

They both dissolved into giggles, only calming down when Cas looked up to see that Dean was smiling at him from across the pool. He blushed so hard and so long that an old woman walking by offered up a bottle of aloe. 

Every single day of the next two weeks went by exactly the same. They’d read for an hour or two before Dean wandered over, smiling and talking and showing off those perfect thighs. He’d ask questions about Castiel’s favorite books, music, what classes he liked. Even though he never managed more than stilted sentences with oddly formal phrasing, Dean didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes they’d just sit next to each other quietly, Dean watching the pool while Castiel struggled to look like he was actually reading. 

“You know, you’re here almost every day but I’ve never actually seen you swim.” If Castiel didn’t know better, he’d think Dean sounded a little disappointed. The thought made him flush and turn away. 

“I’m, I’m not very good. I barely know how.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Charlie prefers reading with ambient noise so we—” 

Dean hummed, cutting off his excuses. “What are you doing after five?” 

“Um,” Castiel’s gazed flicked to Charlie who winked, returning to her book with a smirk. “Uh, well… nothing?” 

“Awesome.” He stood up, smiling easily. “Stay, I’ll show you a few things after close.” 

“W-what?” His jaw nearly hit the ground, this couldn’t actually be happening. 

“Yeah. I’ll come find you in an hour.” 

The intervening hour between Dean Winchester offering to give him _private_ swimming lessons and the pool closing somehow how went by both in slow motion and on fast forward. As soon as the lifeguard had left, Charlie leaned over and whispered, “Holy shit.” 

“I know,” he breathed, eyes trained on the ground, hoping to avoid catching the errant gaze of his soon-to-be tutor. 

“You know ‘lessons’ is code for something totally dirty.” 

“What?” Castiel’s head whipped around, eyes growing impossibly wide as he stared at his best friend in a mix of horror and disbelief. 

“You actually think he wants to teach you techniques or something?” 

“He’s a swimmer, of course—” 

Charlie snorted. “Cas, do you know how many time he’s used that line? Basically every girl at school had a private ‘lesson’ from Dean—if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows as he continued staring in horror. 

“It, it’s different. I’m a boy.” 

“A boy he just used his best line on.” 

“What do you think he’s going to want me to do?” 

“I don’t know. Haven’t you had a million fantasies about this?” Heat crawled up his skin so fast he nearly fainted. “Probably something like that.” 

“I can’t do that! I—I haven’t even kissed before!” He hissed, eyes darting around to make sure no one had heard. 

“You’ll be fine! He’s going to teach you—” 

“Charlie!” 

She laughed. “Alright, alright, I’m just kidding. He probably won’t take it further than a heated make out session. I mean, you will still be in public.” 

Castiel grimaced, suddenly feeling a hundred times more anxious. What if Dean actually wanted him to do, well, _it_? What if this was his only chance and they’d stop talking altogether if he wasn’t good, didn’t know what he was doing? 

Too soon it was five o’clock and people were shuffling out of the water, making their way hurriedly toward the parking lot. Charlie started trying to gather up their things and without thinking he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go,” he begged quietly. 

“Cas, you’ll be fine. This is like a dream come true, just don’t let him force you into anything.” She gently pulled her arm free, gathering up all their stuff except for his towel. “I’ll be at your place waiting to hear all the dirty details.” 

He frowned. “You’re ditching me to flirt with my sister.” 

“Don’t hate the playa.” She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to head before running off and leaving him all alone with— 

“Hey Cas.” Dean was standing so close he could practically feel the man’s breath on his neck, making him shiver. 

“Hello Dean.” He turned, fingers nervously toying with the towel as his eyes landed on bright, eager looking green ones. 

Dean laughed and dropped a hand to rest on the small of Castiel’s back, rubbing soothingly along his spine. “You don’t have to be scared of the water, Cas. It won’t bite.” 

They looked at each other for a moment. Silence settled in almost comfortably around them, despite the nervousness sending tremors through Castiel's body. Dean urged him forward, stopping to pull off the loose white tank top he’d been wearing and revealing that lean muscular torso that haunted Castiel’s dreams. He actually had to stop himself from groaning, instead focusing on getting in the water as fast as possible to minimize the time Dean had to consider his own imperfect body. 

“Alright,” Dean grabbed a flutter board and jumped in, the cool water making his nipples stand up—this man was going to be the death of him. “How ‘bout you do a lap for me, so I can see where you’re at?” 

“O-okay,” the relief must have been visible on his face because the lifeguard let out another laugh, clapping his shoulder. Maybe this was just a lesson after all, he thought, taking a deep breath and plunging into the cool water. 

“Can I see your whip kick next?” 

Castiel complied, awkwardly flailing his legs around the pool and feeling like a completely idiot. A small part of him wondered if this was all some horrible prank and all of Dean’s old swim team buddies were going to come out of the bushes to mock him. When he finally resurfaced, though, they were still alone the other man was smiling warmly a few inches away. There was almost no distance between them now, “Your arms look fine,” he flushed at the almost praise, “I think we should focus on your legs.” 

For a while they just took turns swimming—Dean would show him something and he’d try doing some approximation of the same position. Eventually he was handed the flutter board, using it to keeping afloat as Dean waded over to his side. The other man chuckled, “Okay, the problem is you keeping bending your knee weirdly. You keep doing this,” a hand ran down the length of Castiel’s thigh, gently moving it out. 

He bit his lip, trying to ignore the way those big calloused hands felt sliding down his body. “But it should be doing,” Dean shifted, touching so far up his inner thigh that it made Castiel gasp, “this.” He moved the leg out. “Got it?” 

“Y-yeah.” Castiel stuttered, voice a little rougher than normal. 

“Good. Show me.” His hands didn’t move from where they were positioned on Castiel’s thigh, making it that much harder to concentrate on his technique. The kick was obviously decent enough because the second he’d finished, Dean was gently tugging him off the flutter board. 

“Dean—” He started, surprised as he slipped off the board and fully into the water. 

“Kick is good. Let’s work on your arms.” It was probably all in his head but the man sounded even rougher than he did, eyes practically smouldering as they raked over Castiel’s body. He was completely pliant as Dean positioned him so that they were standing within an inch of each other. It was too much—Charlie’s words kept looping around in his head, making him dizzy. 

“Thought you said my arms were good.” He mumbled, looking at the water. 

“Said they were fine,” Dean’s voice was quiet and husky, smile tugging at his lips as a hand came up to rest on Castiel’s jaw, forcing him to look up. 

“Oh,” was all he could manage, heart hammering in his chest, skin tingling with whatever was passing between them. 

Dean ran the length of Castiel’s sides, slipping both hands under his arms and pulling them over his head. The next thing he knew, those warm wet hands were pressing into his back, forcing him to arch it and bring their bodies even closer. “Wanna keep your back like this,” fingertips traced the curve of his spine, making his knees quiver. 

“Okay,” he breathed as the man trailed one hand back up the length of his arm, keeping the other firmly planted on his back. 

“Your arms should come down like this,” he entwined their fingers and pulled the arm down, letting it land directly on his shoulder before finally letting go to wrap around Castiel’s waist.  
Without really realizing it, his fingers found their way to the soft hair at the back of Dean’s neck. He flushed but didn’t pull away and was rewarded when Dean drew their bodies closer. 

“Like this?” Castiel mumbled. 

“Yeah,” Dean’s breath was hot against his lips, “’s real good, Cas. Bring the other one down, just like I showed you.” 

Slowly, he brought his other arm down and wrapped it around the other man’s neck. Dean’s chest was pressed against his, hot despite the chill of the water. By now the panic was really starting to set in—things were going so well and he was definitely about to ruin it. If they kissed it would quickly become apparent that he had no idea what he was doing, sending Dean running in the opposite direction. Castiel wasn’t stupid; he knew Dean’s reputation enough to know the man probably didn’t want to bother with some loser virgin who didn’t even know how to kiss. 

Suddenly, as if answering some silent prayer, a loud thundering crack tore through the sky and startled both of them into looking up. Somehow, they’d failed to notice how dark everything had gotten, angry looking clouds completely blotting out the sun. Without any more warning, rain started pouring down in huge heavy sheets. 

They both laughed for a minute, some of the tension leaving Castiel’s body until Dean smiled at him fondly, hands sliding down to wrap loosing around his waist. “Hey,” he said quietly, the strange heavy mood settling down on them again, despite the rain. 

The second Dean leaned forward, eyes slipping closed—that was it. Castiel officially could no longer handle the situation. He’d rather Dean think of him as a prude than a shitty hook up. “I—I can’t do this!” He shouted, eyes looking wide and frantic as he pushed out of Dean’s arms and desperately scrambled toward the pool edge. 

“Cas! Wait, man, where are you going?” He called over the sound of the rain. 

“I, I have to go. Home. Now. I’m so sorry.” 

“Wait, at least let me give you a ride.” Without sparing another glance at Dean, Castiel ran out the gate and didn’t stop running until he was panting and gasping outside his own front door. His entire body was shaking and sopping wet by the time he got inside, surprising Anna and Charlie sitting on the couch. 

“Cas?” 

He shook his head and ran upstairs, locking himself in his room before collapsing on the ground, officially more mortified than he’d ever been in his life. Part of him wanted to cry and the other part just wanted to disappear altogether. 

For the next week the pool was absolutely off limits. In fact, nearly everywhere in town was off limits. He was terrified that somehow the news would have spread or that he might accidentally run into Dean somewhere else. Eventually though, Charlie pressured him out again—threatening to just go back to the pool herself and apologize on his behalf. 

Head down the whole way to the community center, he could feel the panic filling his body like a poison. This was a terrible idea, what was he even supposed to say? Or was he supposed to ignore Dean altogether, or just pretend everything was normal? He groaned, shutting up when Charlie levelled a seriously no nonsense glare at him. 

When they got there, though, Dean wasn’t sitting on the tower or standing anywhere else, Jo was. Usually she worked the morning shift but it was already noon so it looked like they’d just switched for the day. “This doesn’t let you off the hook,” Charlie muttered but there was no real malice in her voice. 

After that things went back to normal. It was unusually hot and, since someone else was definitely working, it seemed safe enough to actually go swimming. The second they were in the water, Charlie started this slowly escalating splash war. Laughing, Castiel climbed onto the small diving board threatening to deliver the splash to end all splashes. He was just at the edge, bouncing slightly when brown hair and tanned skin caught his attention. Sure enough, Dean was talking to Jo. 

Castiel’s heart sank, knees going weak right as he jumped. His foot slipped, barely giving him enough time to gasp before his head slammed against the edge of the board. For a split second, he was too dizzy to realize what was happening but it was already too late. He crashed into the water, swallowing a full breath of water in surprise. The next thing he knew, strong arms were wrapping around him, dragging him back to the surface. 

At some point between resurfacing and being set down on the pool deck, he must have passed out. When his eyes finally shot open he was choking and coughing up a lung full of water, Dean’s concerned face inches from his, hands steadying his shoulders. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Dean cooed, rubbing a hand along his back as he kept coughing. 

“D-Dean?” 

“Hey Cas,” he smiled weakly, “gave us all a scare.” 

He looked around—everyone was staring at him, Charlie looking more concerned than he’d ever seen her before. “Sorry,” he mumbled, humiliated by the attention. 

“Cas, are you okay?” Charlie asked, eyes wide and panic stricken. 

“’m fine. Dizzy.” He tried to sit up, Dean’s hands a warm, steady pressure against his arms. The touch reminded him of their almost kiss, making him cringe and groan out loud. 

“I think he might have a concussion,” Dean was telling Charlie. 

“I’m fine, really.” They both looked at him worriedly. 

“I should take him to the hospital, anyway.” 

Charlie nodded in agreement, “Cas? I’m going to go let your mom know what happened. You go with Dean, okay?” He just glared at her, the sweet concerned friend act might have fooled everyone else but he knew better. Especially when she leaned in to hug him whispering, “Don’t mess this up.” 

He was doomed—his own best friend had sold him out. Dean wrapped a towel around his shoulders and helped him stand, “Come on, big guy. Let’s go.” He called over his shoulder, “You gonna be okay, Jo?” 

“Yeah, I’ll call Vic in to cover.” 

And with that they walked silently and awkwardly toward Dean’s car. Needless to say, driving to the hospital after humiliating himself once again in front of Dean was not what he’d imagined his first time in the Impala. 

Things were even worse at the hospital. They waited for hours, not saying anything to each other, Dean putting as much physical distance between them as possible. The man wouldn’t even look him the eye. In the end, the whole thing was for nothing—he didn’t even have a concussion. “Sorry,” Castiel mumbled as they headed back to the car. They’d been in there so long it was getting pretty dark out. Dean didn’t even say anything, just grabbed his jacket out of the backseat and handed it to him. For a split second he thought about just giving it back, he didn’t exactly deserve this kind of kindness after running out on him last week. 

But, this was probably the last time they’d ever see each other and he really wanted to know what it would be like to wrap himself up in the man. The coat smelled just like him—chlorine and leather and something else entirely _Dean_. 

They didn’t talk except for the few directions he gave to guide them to his house. The quiet in the impala felt cold and he half expected Dean to just throw him out of the moving car when got to his house. Instead, the man actually parked the car, pulling all the way into his driveway. Everything was silent for a while longer before Castiel finally couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry about the other day.” He said, staring at where his hands were folded on his lap. “For running away like that.” 

“Since you brought it up,” he paused for a minute to collect himself, “mind telling me what that was all about?” 

“You—you were about to kiss me.” Castiel accused, staring at Dean. 

Dean chuckled uneasily, “Yeah, I was.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting his arm fall across the back of the seat, fingers inches away from Castiel. “Look, man. If you weren’t interested or whatever, you could have just said something. Didn’t have to run away in the rain.” 

“But I was interested!” He blurted, eyes growing wide in horror of his admission. 

“Why’d you run away then, dude?” 

“I, um.” His eyes darted away, looking anywhere but Dean. “I didn’t want you know that I hadn’t ever,” he waved his hand around vaguely, “before.” 

“Hadn’t what?” He asked, fingers reaching out to play with the hair curling up behind Castiel’s ear. 

“You know, uh, kissed anyone.” 

“Oh,” Dean said softly, almost sadly, “you’re waiting for someone special.” 

“No!” He said quickly then flushed. “No, well, I mean, yes, sort of… but I wanted it to be you.” Dean looked confused, he sighed. “I’m just not experienced, I didn’t want you to,” he looked away again before mumbling, “not like it.” 

“Cas, you idiot.” He said fondly. “I don’t care how experienced you are.” 

“You don’t?” 

“Nah, I like you. I’m gonna like kissing you no matter what weird shit you do.” Castiel smiled slightly, looking down to hide it. “Hey,” Dean titled his chin back up, “I’m serious. If you wanted to wait until you felt more comfortable, you could’ve told me that, too.” 

“I thought that was my only chance.” 

“You can have as many chances as you want.” He grinned, “I’m happy to take this slow.” 

“This?” 

“Yeah, us or whatever. You ‘n me.” He smiled bashfully, brushing the hair from Castiel’s forehead. “I mean, if you wanted there to be an us. There doesn’t have to be, or anything. I’d like there to be but.” He laughed a bit, “Sorry, I’m uh, not very good at this kinda stuff.” 

“Neither am I,” Castiel smiled and then said so quietly it was barely more than a whisper, “I’d like that. For there to be an us.” 

Dean perked up. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he bit his lip nervously. Dean’s thumb came down and brushed over the abused skin, pulling it from between his teeth. 

“Good.” His eyes flickered down to where he was touching Castiel’s lips. They sat like that for a minute, tension and heat building up between them before Dean finally started speaking again. “Hey Cas,” 

“Yes Dean?” 

“I really wanna kiss you right now.” 

Castiel swallowed. “Okay,” he breathed, leaning a little bit closer. “You can do that,” he breathed. 

“Cool,” Dean mumbled, brushing his lips against Castiel’s so chastely it could barely count as a kiss. Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed and he pressed their lips together more firmly, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. It was hot and wet and messy and everything he’d imagined it would be. 

After a few minutes they broke away panting, matching smiles on their faces. Dean opened his mouth to speak but Castiel pulled their mouths back together again, absolutely nowhere near done. The other man laughed at his eagerness, using both hands to cup his face and slow the kiss down again. “Easy,” he sighed against his lips. 

Castiel hummed, “But I like kissing you.” 

“We can do it again.” 

“Good.” They smiled at each other again before finally pulling apart. “I should probably go inside.” 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck before reaching over to grab a pen from the glove compartment. “Just gonna give you my number.” He winked, scribbling his phone number onto Castiel’s palm. 

It still took a few minutes for Castiel to actually get out of the car, every time he tried one of them would pull the other back in for one more kiss. The second he had actually made it to his room he locked the door and collapsed on his bed before finally pulling out his phone. 

_When do I get to kiss you again?_

A second later his phone beeped. 

_I’ll drive back right now if u want :)_

Castiel blushed. 

_Please do_. 

He tossed his phone to the side and closed his eyes, smiling up at the ceiling. “Dean Winchester,” he whispered out loud, letting the name bounce off the walls and fill the empty room with a chorus of _Dean! Dean! Dean!_ He sighed happily, mind full with thoughts of stupid green eyes and a galaxy of freckles.

**Author's Note:**

> Super big thanks to my beta hellobrightside!


End file.
